


Quiet Nights

by casey2y5



Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-20
Updated: 2013-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-05 07:42:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1091345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casey2y5/pseuds/casey2y5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of ficlets that were requested on Tumblr. Includes RPF.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Quiet Nights

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt requested by Anonymous. Adamandriel. Comforting after a nightmare from the Cage.

It was dark and cold. It always was, save for the blinking light when the archangels collided. It seemed almost as if they had forgotten him, and he was sure that for long stretches of time they did. He had never thought Hell would be so cold.He would sit, teeth chattering, for years, longing for the brimstone he had been promised as a child.

It wasn't until Michael and Lucifer remembered him that he was in trouble. They didn't have weapons but it seemed like the one thing they did agree on was that since he was the closest thing to a Winchester in the Cage it was his fault they were imprisoned for eternity. Their large wings beat against him leaving deep, painful bruises. Lucifer liked to use his hands, sharp fingers digging deep into his body, laughing as he screamed.

"Adam, Adam," Lucifer taunted, fingers deep in his shoulder.

Warm, sticky blood was dripping down his shoulder. No one had said his name in eons.

"Adam."

Adam peeled his eyes open, Early morning sunlight was filtering through the thin curtains. There were a pair of large blue eyes peering down at him, a large hand gripping his shoulder.

Reality came back to him in large chunks. The memory of the brightest thing he had ever seen, waking up whole in the middle of a ring of felled trees, those same eyes watching him.

"'Mandriel?" he asked, still disoriented.

"I'm here, baby. Just a dream."

"Cage. Cold."

Samandriel pulled him close, arms wrapping around his trembling body. Adam scooted closer, burying his face in his lover's scent. Samandriel's warmth was all around him and his lips were whispering calming words against his forehead. Adam's heart was still racing in his ears and he could feel the sweat cooling on his body . His hands were fisted tight around Samandriel's shirt and he was aware of the deep gulping breaths he was taking. 

This was routine. It didn't happen as often as it had when Samandriel first pulled him out, but three or four times a week Adam would wake up in a cold sweat screaming, sure Lucifer and Michael were debating the best way to make him suffer for his brother's crimes- the most painful way to mangle his soul, or else he would be woken by Samandriel before the dream got really bad. Even now, two years later, it happened and they had this dance mastered.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Adam got out.

Samandriel's arms tightened automatically around him, pulling him closer. The heartbeat of Samandriel's vessel beat strong and steady against Adam's cheek; it helped slow his own pounding heart. Adam managed to pull away, still amazed by how softly Samandriel was looking at him- not a trace of pity but the need for him to be safe and whole apparent.

He buried his face back into Samandriel's chest, not feeling up to looking at him yet. Samandriel was pure goodness, everything Adam had forgotten in the Cage and looking at him with the fresh memories was almost as painful as when Samandriel had appeared in the Cage, grace burning brighter than Michael and Lucifer combined.

"It's alright. You're safe."

"I know."

Adam wasn't sure if he could get closer to Samandriel, but he tried tangling their legs together. Samandriel was close enough to touch- he knew he was safe.

"Sleep now," Adam said.

"Alright."


	2. Back of Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by dorklandobloom. Prompt: sleepy!sam on a hunt

Stakeouts sucked. There was no way around it. On a normal day it was miserable but Dean was on some kind of suicide mission and we had been moving from hunt to hunt almost nonstop for a month now. He only did this shit when he was trying to atone for something and I couldn't figure out what he had done. It didn't really matter at this point.

I missed my bed. Hell, at this point I missed motel beds. I just wanted a place to sleep that wasn't the Impala.

It wasn't like I hadn't spent many, many nights sleeping in her, but for the past year we had been spoiled, sleeping a majority of nights in our own bed where we knew we were safe. Dean wasn't showing any signs of slowing or heading back to the bunker for a few days.

"Dean nothing is going to happen tonight. Let's go get some real sleep in a real bed."

"Quit whining."

"We know it's only coming out once a week. We have two nights before we can do anything."

"Patterns change."

"This one hasn't changed for fifty years. I think we're good."

"If you're that tired then sleep in the back."

"We've been sleeping in the damn car for a week. I need a real bed."

"Either sleep in the back or quit bitching."

I grumbled a bit, but the haze of sleep called to me more than arguing did. I snatched the blanket Dean had on his lap and crawled over the seat hitting my head on the roof of the car.

"Hey!" Dean protested.

"I get the blanket if I don't get a bed."

It was only fair. I got as comfortable as I could with my feet putting against the door, and using the armrest as a makeshift pillow. I was too grumpy at this point to really care. The blackness of sleep overtook me for a few minutes until a triumphant Dean yelled: "Ha! I told you so!"

I fumbled for my gun, getting ready to go after the thing. As soon as the thing was dead I might force Dean to take us home at gunpoint. I couldn't feel my toes from being pressed against the door for so long.


End file.
